


Totally Not Stalking You

by TheSmuttyBard



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: AU, F/F, James doesn't know Clark so he treats Kara like everyone else, Kara has a grandma, Kara has no super powers, Lena is kind of the same, Savers found a way, Where is the box you untick to show this is more than 1 chapter?, i don't know why, i have no idea what this will be rated, maybe think gossip girl meets supergirl, this was inspired by a gif
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 20:40:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17690492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSmuttyBard/pseuds/TheSmuttyBard
Summary: So this fic is inspired by a Twitter gif of "Kara" taking pictures along with the suggestion that taking a few candid shots and asking for consent to keep them could be turned into a meet-cute fic.I was like, "What if Kara's a stalker who doesn't ask to keep the pics? Does that sound fun?"And they were like, "No."And I was like, "Hmmm. I'm intrigued. Can I make stalker vibes as hot as an 80s ballad again?"So there you have it. That's the challenge: Make Stalking Hot Again!Can it be done?Click to find out.(So, Alena, this is for you. Unless you don't want any affiliation with it. Then it definitely isn't for you, and we'll just chock it up to butterfly effect.) ;)





	Totally Not Stalking You

It was no accident that had Kara sitting on her sister’s balcony when 12:30 rolled around on a fine summer day. It was quite by design.

 

Earlier, she’d swung by Noonan’s to pick up her grandma a slice of pailletin and just _happened_ to catch a glimpse of the reservation list and spotted a rather elusive name:

 

_Lena Luthor—table for 2_

_12:30_

_Patio reservation_

 

It had seemed way too good to be true. A reservation at the restaurant across the street from her sister’s apartment? And Kara had a key with permission to go in anytime she needed during work hours? (But after work hours, she _definitely_ had to knock.)

 

Not believing her luck, Kara had raced to Alex’s place, put grandma's slice of cake in the fridge and chowed down on the slice she'd gotten for herself as she set up her computer on the balcony. Anyone looking at her would think she was typing in the sunshine when she was actually pointing her camera over the ledge of the balcony toward Noonan’s patio below ... waiting for the most elusive of locals to show.

 

Then,  at 12:30 on the nose. there she was: Lena Luthor.

 

Kara looked from the patio in the distance to the display of her camera, put the woman in frame, and zoomed.

 

_Click._

 

The billionaire flashed a bright smile to a man seated at a table waiting for her. In response, the man stood—arms outstretched for a hug that Lena walked right into it without hesitation.

 

_Click … Zoom … Click-click._

 

When they pulled apart, Kara saw her first close-up view of the woman's dress.

 

_Click._

 

Damn, the woman knew how to show up. Raven hair worn down and straight over a royal blue pencil dress that stopped just above her knees. Everything about her just seemed effortlessly flawless. It seemed impossible that the woman Kara was looking at could be even close to her own age.

 

The Luthor had a double-PhD and was the CEO to two massively successful companies, while Kara had an undergrad degree in General Studies and was living in her grandma’s guest room in senior housing while trying to generate enough income to get a place of her own.

 

A shopping trip into Lena Luthor’s closet might help on that front—wearing sharp business suits and sexy heels instead of the modest cardigans she borrowed from Grams to keep James Olsen from raising eyebrows her way whenever Kara came in for the bi-monthly freelancer meetings. If James wanted her to join the whole competitive Devil-Wears-Prada vibe they had going at Catco, he was going to have to give Kara more than one story a week at $125 a pop. Because the two other jobs Kara had (that actually paid the bills) had no problem with her day-to-day look.

 

In fact, they liked it. Her piercings. Her tattoos. Her Chucks. They all worked just fine when Kara took pictures at concerts or bartended on the weekends.

 

Maybe it was a sign. Maybe Kara just wasn’t cut out to be a reporter. Maybe the corporate 8-to-5 life wasn’t for her. Maybe James was leading her on and had no plans to bring her on to the magazine full-time, despite the fact that the click-throughs and responses to her stories were always listed among the top performers.

 

It didn’t seem to matter to him. No matter how well she performed, James always had an excuse to keep her freelance … which made Kara free as any other freelance-bird when it came to taking pictures of the super-hot CEO of the company who almost paying her grocery bill each month.

 

No conflict of interest there.

 

And damn if this freelance opportunity wasn't opening Kara's eyes to the fact that Lena Luthor had a smile that could stop a war.

 

_Click._

 

Lena's smile was aimed at her date—a man with dark hair, a full beard, and olive skin. Kara saw him clearly when he turned to escort Lena to their table. He was smiling, clearly taken with her … his eyes dropping to watch Lena’s lips as she spoke words Kara couldn’t hear from across the street and up four stories.

 

_Click._

 

Lena threw her head back and laughed at something he said.

 

_Click. Click … Click._

The CEO looked relaxed. Comfortable. Happy. Kara was so used to seeing the steel-faced exterior the Luthor put on in public. What she was seeing now—Lena's easy laugh and light, blushing glow seemed surreal …

 

_Click. Click._

… like something Kara shouldn't be allowed to see without signing a non-disclosure form first. Witnessing the woman act so casually almost felt like an invasion of privacy.

 

Because it pretty much was.

 

Technically speaking, everything Kara posted on her **National City Secrets** Instagram page fit in the taken-without-permission category. But they were legally kosher because Kara obeyed all the laws, took pictures only from public areas, and never speculated about what she’d captured. She just posted what she caught, while 59,000 followers tuned in to see what she caught next—including many of the people she’d taken pictures of in the past.

 

It was ironic that the greatest success in Kara's life had all started as a throw-away account she'd created to post a shot of the mayor groping his intern after the woman had made a complaint and been shut down and fired.

 

Posting anonymous proof that the intern’s claim was true had exploded into the only venture Kara had ever authentically succeeded at: being National City's one and only paparazzi.

 

Was she proud of it? No.

 

Was she good at it? Yes.

 

If Kara ever came out of hiding and found a way to get paid for her skills, she’d be rich. But, for now, it was all for ego … all to know that she had something to offer the world, even if she wasn’t getting paid for it yet.

 

And it was all made possible because Kara was the punk wallflower no one expected much from, which meant no one really noticed when she snapped off a picture or two like any other blonde in the city.

 

Sometimes, being underestimated had its perks.

 

Kara zoomed in on the patio scene—cropping the man out for the moment—and focused on Lena’s reaction to her date.

 

Eyes bright.

 

_Click._

 

Lips smiling wide.

 

_Click._

 

Arms and posture doing nothing to block the view of the peek of cleavage her pencil dress offered.

 

_Click … zoom. Click._

“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Kara muttered to herself before releasing a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding.

 

Something about Lena Luthor did that to her—made her forget how to breathe. She wasn’t sure why.

 

Kara had been in the same room as the CEO three times before and forgotten her own name each time. Luckily, no one had asked. Kara had just done her whole wallflower thing while everyone else vied for the spotlight. And, each time, the Luthor had looked her way just long enough to note Kara as a person in the room before focusing on more important people.

 

Thank heavens, because weird things started happening inside Kara anytime the CEO so much as glanced her way. Her heart started thudding like a kick drum, her head got a little bit lighter, and she started sweating like a kid who just hit a home run through a window.

 

If Lena Luthor had been a guy, Kara would have called her reaction a crush, but it wasn’t like that. Kara had only ever dated guys. She’d kissed a few girls just to play around back in college but it hadn’t really done anything for her. It hadn’t been gross, but it hadn’t been hot either. It had been like trading back rubs—a feel-good thing to do at the time without anyone taking it too personally afterward.

 

So Kara knew she wasn’t into girls … but if she was? Lena fucking Luthor would be at the top of her Fuck-Me list.

 

Because … damn.

 

But Lena was straight, though. That was clear as day. As was the fact that she was happy in her current relationship.

 

_Click._

Really happy.

 

_Click. Click._

 

And that was that.

 

The man reached across the table at something Lena said, his hand covering hers on the table.

 

_Click._

 

His thumb moved back and forth over the back of Lena's hand in a gesture of comfort.

 

_Click … click._

 

One thing was clear: the two of them had definitely done ‘the do’, and ‘the do’ had definitely been good enough to repeat, based on how fluidly they conversed and how thoughtlessly they leaned into each other’s spaces.

 

They looked happy—which shouldn’t have made Kara’s gut twist in an odd way … a way that felt a bit like jealousy when Kara really knew it had just been a while since she’d been on a date.

 

Living with one’s grandmother wasn’t the best way to get laid.

 

Kara could never bring anyone home and got the third degree after any night she stayed anywhere else. She’d pretty much been flying solo since moving to National City. In every sense of the word.

 

She just had to get laid. That was all. She just needed to find someone to reach for her hand like that while listening to her troubles like they cared.

 

She needed more lunches like that in her life, and fewer lunches stalking local celebrities like a creeper while counting likes from strangers on the Internet for her gift at nabbing impossible shots.

 

Kara’s average post got around 13,000 likes, but she had a feeling this one might score higher simply because Lena Luthor was a master at only being seen when and how she wanted to be. No one had a more cultivated image in all the city.

 

And Kara now had candids of the woman on a date.

 

If CatCo had a rival, they’d probably pay big money for pictures like this. But, alas, no one could compete with the monopoly Lena had on cultural reporting. Like everything else she touched, the magazine somehow thrived while all the competition withered and died.

 

So the only client Kara had was herself. Just like always.

 

On the screen of her camera, Kara watched Lena bite her bottom lip—eyes troubled as she looked down to find some words before speaking again.

 

That was the moment Kara decided she had enough pictures. Capturing the woman smiling and flirting was one thing. Capturing her bare and vulnerable in a private conversation was another.

 

It was time to call it a wrap.

 

_Click._

Okay, NOW it was time to call it a wrap. Kara had the money shot. It had been one of the first shots she’d taken. The rest were all just … extra. She’d upload them to her cloud, download and post from her phone, then delete all the images off her camera—probably to never look at them again.

 

No harm, no foul.

 

Well, unless one counted outing Lena Luthor as being in a relationship as a foul. The CEO probably wouldn’t be too pleased with that, considering how private her private life tended to be.

 

But women who wanted to keep relationships secret shouldn’t be open with them on public patios.

 

That’s what Kara told herself every time she took a covert picture, but this time she felt a little twitchier about it.

 

She simultaneously wanted to delete every picture and take more at the same time, even as her hands went about the business of doing neither—connecting her camera to her laptop and transferring the images to her hard drive and cloud. Then Kara packed up her laptop and stowed all her equipment in a canvas shopping bag for transport. City thieves were less likely to steal groceries than camera bags.

 

Then Kara pulled out her phone and opened her cloud account—quickly finding the picture she wanted to post. It was the one she’d taken right after Lena and her date pulled away from their hug. It showed Lena’s date from behind and in slight profile while Lena looked up at him in pure radiance.

 

No guarded looks. No tight smiles. Lena was beaming as her fingers tangled into the man’s while they shared a laugh.

 

Kara’s eyes paused on the cleavage she’d captured with her downward angle. With Lena’s chin tipped up and her neck exposed, the image seemed a bit sexier than Kara remembered it being real-time. But when she backed out and searched for a second-best picture with a little less skin showing, she found all of the pictures pretty much had the same issue.

 

They all highlighted the fact that Lena Luthor had a great rack.

 

“Nothing to be done about that,” Kara muttered to herself before reloading the first picture in the app and posting it with no filter and no caption—just like all the pictures she posted.

 

And Kara let people like and comment what they thought of it as she delivered a slice of perfection back to grandma’s house.

**Author's Note:**

> Want more?
> 
> Lemme know. This is an experiment ;)


End file.
